Edge of Madness

(heavy breathing)

(weeping)

- What the hell?

- Woman:
Is this the jail?

- Aye.

- Woman #2:
Keep the door closed.

- George!

- Man:
George?

- Woman:
George!

- Man:
What do you want?

- George.

- What do you want?

George?

- Come back here.

- George!

- I did it.

- Did what?

I killed him, my husband.

It was me.

I'll get Mr. Mullen.

You stay here.

Oh, George!

Je suis Marie.

Y'a pas de George ici.

(weeps)

She's undone, sir.

Driven.

Carried on

like a madwoman.

Man #2:
Why not

send her to the church?

Reverend's away

from the fort, sir.

(coughing)

It's too hot in here.

It's a jail, not a bloody inn.

Aye, sir.

Mullen:
So...

you say you've killed a man?

Man #1:
Your husband.

What's your name?

Mullen:

It's a simple question.

Your name.

- She can talk.

- This girl speaks French.

- Man #1:
Careful, sir.

- She's a strange woman.

Here, sit up.

Come on.

(woman pants)

Mullen:
She's covered

in scratches.

She's gone wild, sir.

Fill out the forms, Donnely.

Lock her up.

I'll take her statement

tomorrow.

- Should we feed her, sir?

- I don't care.

This weather was sent

from hell, lass.

I'd rather freeze

than hang, though.

Mullen's voice:

Journal of Mr. Henry Mullen,

Chief Recorder, Hudson Bay Company.

November 15th:

In the absence of Governor Simpson,

it's fallen to me

to investigate

this strange young woman

Who appeared last night

at the fort.

As I am inexperienced

in these matters,

I asked Dr. Jenkins

to assist me.

First of all,

I want your name.

Fine, then.

Who's George? Your husband?

Perhaps he took shelter

with some natives.

Or perished.

- I've done a terrible thing.

- You said you killed your husband.

And George as well.

Mon Dieu!

How did you kill him?

With a rock.

I heard his skull crack.

Jenkins:

And where did this happen?

At the homestead.

We were building a fireplace.

We had lots of rocks.

- Why did you kill him?

- Because I wanted to.

I wanted to kill my husband,

so I did it.

- You haven't told us your name.

- Annie.

- And your husband?

- Simon.

And who's George?

His brother.

- Can you examine her now?

- No!

Right. Quite frankly, I'd rather

have her cleaned up first.

Would you like that?

Nice hot bath.

Good. Take her over

to the house, Ruth.

Jenkins:
It's not

in a woman's nature.

Mullen:
In the middle

of bloody nowhere,

cut off from civilization,

people do the unthinkable.

True, but no one has been

reported missing.

Nobody knows

What goes on out there.

She got lost,

quite likely.

How old do you think

she is?

it's hard to tell.

I'll have to take

a closer look.

What's this?

Purple.

Yes, I love purple.

Mmm...

your book?

I'll just put it

over here, okay?

It's burnt, huh?

Okay.

You get in now.

we'll get some more water.

(churchbell tolls)

(music) Oh what needless pain

we bear (music)

(music) Oh what needless pain

we bear (music)

(music) All because

we do not carry (music)

(music) All because

we do not carry (music)

(music) We do not carry everything

to God in prayer. (music)

(whistling)

- You cannot go with him, Annie.

- (water splattering)

Annie, get out!

Come on, get out!

Come on!

- Annie...

- I have to get dressed!

Woman:

I don't understand.

I told her to finish

her bath, get dressed...

Miss Creswell, I don't know.

She knew he was waiting.

Good... let him choose

one of the other girls.

- I want him to choose me.

- You can't go with him, Annie.

- Again, I had the dream.

- I have my own dreams, Sadie.

I want babies and a home...

- and a husband.

- Had a baby once.

Came out of a big boil

on my stomach, the size of a rat.

They took it away,

fed it to the dogs.

- That's a lie.

- It's true. I almost died!

Man:
I do not care

if she can sing.

I need a wife

who can work.

Ah, here she is.

- She's awfully wee.

- She's strong.

And willing.

She's French, but can read

and write English.

No need.

She can sew just about anything...

suits, shirts...

she's been well instructed.

She'll do.

You won't be sorry,

monsieur.

You want to drown yourself?

The Scots make good whiskey.

At least they're good

for something.

- (knocking on door)

- Here she is, sir.

I put a damper on her.

My own.

- Thank you, Ruth.

- I found this.

It's burnt.

- Was there a fire?

- She won't talk, sir.

It's a mistake

to teach girls to read.

- I agree.

- Thank you.

Come.

Sit on the table, please.

- Mrs...

- Simon.

Come sit on the table.

We'll begin your examination.

- I'll leave it to you.

- No!

Come on.

Come sit down.

Come sit down!

Come here and sit!

Ah! we'll tie you down

if that's what it takes!

Just hold her, Mr. Mullen.

Please.

Good.

Thank you.

This won't take long.

I examine everyone that comes

into the jail, Mrs. Simon.

It's for your own good.

Hows your sleeping?

Fine.

Have you heard

from your wife?

There's nothing more to say.

Her position's straightforward.

She won't be coming back.

And you, have you made

a decision yet?

Well, I make

lots of decisions and then...

I change my mind.

Oh...

some frostbite.

Must be sore.

Yes.

She's had

a rather rough time.

Lots of bruises

and scratches.

Yes, look at this.

A bite mark here

on her hand.

Human?

Yes.

Now lie back.

Just lie back.

Mullen:
Come on.

- Move your legs apart, please.

- No!

- Move your legs apart.

- No!

No one is going

to hurt you.

Jenkins:
Good. Uh... huh.

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